"Yes, my lord."
With a unified salute, the men swiftly exited the restaurant.
Gunfire erupted in the distance.Rumble.Flames lit up the city skyline.
Vega calmly sipped his wine. He knew his forces had begun their assault—purging every Hegel family stronghold in Guardiola, erasing their presence from the map.
As the Ten Rings launched into action, Vega stood and addressed Kevin."Go assist them. As for Monroe…" he smiled faintly, "I'll handle him myself."
Outside the restaurant, Hegel family patrols rushed past. Vega glanced at them indifferently.
"Begin," he ordered.
Then he vanished—racing toward the Monroe family estate at terrifying speed.
Ten kilometers.Seven kilometers.By the time he reached the five-kilometer mark, Vega slowed, walking directly toward the heavily armed sentries stationed at the outer perimeter.
When the guards spotted him—just a lone, unfamiliar youth—their expressions darkened.
"Martial law is in effect! This is a restricted zone!" one shouted. "Turn around, now!"
Vega ignored him and continued forward.
One of the younger gang members, a wiry man, panicked. He raised his gun and fired a warning shot—aiming at Vega's leg.
But the bullet never made contact.
Mid-air, it froze half a meter from Vega's body. A crimson mist manifested out of thin air, stopping the round effortlessly.
"What… what the hell?" the leader stammered, eyes wide.
Then recognition hit him like a truck.
He pulled out his phone, browsed a secure document, and his face turned pale."Vega. Pengellet. Extremely dangerous. Dead or alive."
His scream followed immediately:"Enemy contact! Open fire! Kill him—now!"
A dozen rifles lit up, bullets flying in all directions.
But Vega didn't even blink.
He raised one hand lazily, and the same red mist unfurled around him—absorbing every bullet.
Then, with a simple thought, the gangsters' bodies convulsed violently. Blood oozed from every pore.
They screamed—briefly.
Then collapsed, nothing left but dry bones.
At the villa deeper inside the estate, guards had been chatting idly, smoking and laughing. They tensed as the gunfire stopped.
"What the hell was that?"
"Could be intruders…"
The fat squad leader snapped at them, "Shut it! I'll find out."
He grabbed his communicator and tried to reach the outer patrol.
No response.
Something was very wrong.
"Everyone, battle positions!" he roared. "Move out!"
Vehicles revved up. Armed men piled into SUVs and sped toward the source of the commotion.
That's when they saw him.
A figure walking through the checkpoint like he owned the place.
"Who the hell is that?" the fat leader barked.
He climbed onto the roof of his car, pointed a finger at Vega, and shouted:
"Shoot him! Now!"
Automatic weapons roared to life—submachine guns, rifles, mounted guns. A storm of bullets tore through the air…
…but didn't even scratch Vega.
His Nen barrier shimmered as bullets bounced harmlessly off him, clattering to the ground.
The gang stared in disbelief. Their bullets might as well have been feathers.
"He's… he's not human…"
Panicked, the fat leader dove for the trunk of his vehicle and emerged wielding a rocket launcher.
A wild grin spread across his face."Let's see you tank this! Even armored convoys can't survive it!"
He fired.
BOOM.The rocket exploded in a violent plume of smoke and fire.
"Yes!" he roared. "No one survives that!"
But then…A silhouette emerged from the flames.
Unharmed.
Vega walked forward, eyes cold.
The leader's blood turned to ice.
"Impossible… rockets… he took a direct hit…"
He fumbled for another round, but Vega was already standing in front of him.
Crack.
The fat leader's head fell.
His final sight: the rest of his squad, already dead—drained dry. Their blood hovered in the air around Vega, the mist glowing brighter and bloodier.
Inside the Monroe Estate…
Booms and explosions echoed from outside.
In the conference room, tension spiked.
"What's going on?!"
Huddled around the table, the remaining leaders of the Monroe family looked anxiously toward the windows.
Monroe—formerly Hegel—sat at the head, his face pale, eyes twitching.
It couldn't be…
Vega Pengellet.
He had come.
Panic gripped him. He wanted to flee to the underground vault immediately.
Just then, a scar-faced man slammed a fist on the table."Silence!" he barked.
Everyone froze.
"I'm Berghead," he growled, snatching a radio from a guard. "Report, now! What the hell's happening?!"
Screams crackled over the radio.
"Captain! It's Vega—he's here! Bullets don't work! Rockets don't work! He's a damn monster—"
Static.
Then… a new voice, cold and calm, came over the line.
"I'm coming for you, Monroe. You can't hide."
The entire room went silent. Cold sweat drenched their backs.
"Bastard!" Berghead roared. "You want a fight? I'll bring it to you!"
He threw down the radio, tore off his blazer, and barked orders.
"Armored units! Bring out everything—tanks, heavy vehicles, all of it! Blow him off the face of the earth!"
"Yes, sir!" a grizzled lieutenant shouted, already on his phone coordinating the response.
Outside, vehicles revved, engines howled, tank tracks thundered over the pavement.
Not far from the estate, Vega stood alone on the road.
Tanks, APCs, dozens of SUVs approached.
He smiled.
"So this is the power of one of the Ten Elders…" he muttered. "Impressive."
His eyes sharpened."But none of this will save you."
With one step, a sonic boom cracked through the air as he launched himself forward.
Berghead spotted him from an SUV. "Let's see if your body's tougher than steel," he sneered.
"All units—open fire!"
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
Artillery shells lit up the sky. Dozens of blasts rocked the landscape, craters ripping into the road, flames reaching for the heavens.
Berghead grinned."No one could survive that."
Then—
Flash.
A red light zipped past him.
Crack.His head hit the pavement.
From the inferno, Vega emerged. Crimson hair fluttering, a blood-red mist swirling behind him.
He looked like a god of death—untouched, unstoppable.
Vega's hand glowed red.
He slashed forward.
BOOM.
A tank split cleanly in half.
Panic broke.
"Run! Run!!"
Tanks reversed. Cars fled.
But the blood mist caught them.
One by one, the vehicles stopped.
Inside, every soldier was already dead—drained dry.
Vega continued forward, undeterred, carving a straight path to Monroe's estate.
Every defender he passed fell instantly. Some died without even realizing what hit them.
And yet… Monroe was nowhere to be found.
Vega frowned.
"Did he escape?"
He spread the mist, sweeping the entire estate for traces of life.
He found something—underground.
A hidden chamber pulsing with life.
Vega grinned, then leapt into the air and smashed the ground, breaking through.
Below, in the bunker…
Monroe sat among the remaining Ten Elders on a secure video call. His face was pale, drenched in sweat.
"What's going on, Monroe?" one of them asked.
"Why did you call an emergency meeting?"
Before Monroe could respond, an unfamiliar voice answered instead—from Monroe's own monitor.
"Because he's about to die."
"So I thought I'd let him say goodbye."
A screen filled with glowing red light.